A Dark Moment
by Widdy
Summary: A dark moment in both the lives of Andy and Miranda. Andy/Miranda.
1. A Dark Moment  Andrea

Title: A Dark Moment - Andrea

Author: Widdy  
>Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil Wears Prada, or Miranda or Andy, unfortunately someone else does so I'm just borrowing them I will return them after I'm done.<br>Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes feel free to feed me.

Pairing: Andrea/Miranda

Summary: A dark moment in Andy's life.

A/N: This story includes some angst, and may be upsetting to some readers. If this is you then please do not read, thank you.

Andy felt like her heart was going to explode as she stared sightlessly at the beige wall before her. Her breathing was shallow as her mind stubbornly told her that everything was going to be fine, even though part of her had serious doubts. Andy closed her eyes and tried desperately to forget about her morning, to forget everything that had happened in the past few hours.

In her mind she could still see everything clearly. The events of the past five hours were playing continually to an audience of just one.

She could see two men dressed in navy blue, crouched, their huge bodies obscuring her view; still she couldn't take her eyes away.

It had all happened so fast, there had been no warning, no sign. One minute Miranda Priestly had been standing over her, belittling her with just a look, then she had clutched her chest and a second later the silver haired editor had been sprawled across her desk motionless.

Andy could still recall the bone crushing fear that had seized her chest. Her ears had hurt momentarily as a scream ripped from somewhere next her. Everything faded and Andy had found her world zeroing in on Miranda.

A crowd of people had suddenly appeared. Andy remembered glancing briefly at them as she had rushed around her desk to try and help the woman who was at the centre of her world. Their faces stuck with her, some had clearly displayed fear, others shock, and some had even been filled with joy. They were like vultures circling a carcass.

Emily hadn't moved, her hands had been held up in front of her face obscuring her mouth and nose, her eyes wide. Andy had wanted to do the same, but the fact that Miranda had needed her help had spurred her into action. She had shouting at her workmate to get a grip of herself and to call for the paramedics.

Andy hadn't been sure what she should do. She had stared helplessly at Miranda's body, it was frozen mid action, still slumped over her desk. At the time Andy vaguely recalled remembering something from a television episode about getting an unconscious person into the recovery position, but she couldn't move Miranda on her own. She had glanced to Emily for help only to find her carrying out her orders. Next she had turned to the crowed and the sea of curious faces, and as if some deity had answered her prayer someone appeared at her left.

Andy remembered the feeling of gratitude she had felt as a tall dark-haired man had nudged his way through the crowd. He instructed her to help him get Miranda onto the floor. Andy remembered how the irrational and fleeting thought, that if Miranda was awake she would probably have had a fit if she knew they were about to lay her on the Runway Office floor, in her knee length Michael Koors mink balmacaan.

Her helper, Andy remembered worked for Jocelyn in some capacity. Andy suspected that he had seen the panic that had been flooding her eyes, because he had looked at her knowingly and started to explain to her what he was doing. He had told her that he was trained her first aid. He was checking that Miranda was breathing, when he had confirmed that she was, he unbuckled her red Gucci belt and loosened her skirt.

Andy could still hear his gentle and knowledgeable voice informing her that they had to check Miranda's pulse, and they had to do it every ten minutes until the paramedics arrived. Then had he told her because Miranda was unconscious they had to position her so that she wouldn't choke on her own bodily fluids. Andy could still hear him instructing her how to push up Miranda's right leg and then lift it so it rested over her left, locking it so it stabilized her. He did the same with her arms and then tilted her head. He explained that the mouth is positioned downward so that vomit or blood can drain from it if necessary; that the chin is well up to keep the epiglottis open. Andy had found her mind latching onto his words as he continued to check Miranda's pulse and her breathing.

His voice had been soothing and Andy thanked God that he had been there. He stood suddenly and told her to keep checking Miranda's pulse and her breathing. Andy had asked him where he was going and he told her that he was going to keep everyone back.

Andy had done what he told her, she had checked Miranda's pulse, checked her breathing, and she had prayed. She had prayed to anyone who would listen, begged even that the woman in front of her would be Okay.

A shadow had fallen over her and Andy remembered tracking her eyes up from black Manolos with a suede Spat detail, to a tight black Cristobal Balenciaga dress that had been chosen because of the way it accentuated the figure of its owner. Her eyes tracked further still, up until she reached Emily's face. Her mouth had been moving but Andy didn't hear a word. It was like someone had hit the mute button, there was no sound, and the only thing that Andy had felt was the weak throb of Miranda's pulse underneath the pale and clammy skin of her wrist.

Andy had found her eyes moving away from Emily and back to Miranda. She had looked terrible, her hair which was normally perfect now looked tussled, her face had been even paler that usual and her lipstick had smeared at the corner of her mouth. One of her earrings had been gone and a bruise had rapidly spread over her forehead. Andy found her fingers had moved from Miranda's wrist and entwined with the other woman's fingers.

It was at that moment Andy realised she was terrified and it was in that moment that she realised why. Miranda might be a bitch and treat her like she was a slave at times, but Andy realised that she cared about her boss. For some unfathomable reason, she cared about Miranda Priestly, she cared about her health, and she cared whether she lived or died.

Something had then landed next to her and it was like the volume had been cranked up to full. Noise had flooded her ears and Andy felt someone start to pull her way, while a hand started to untangle her fingers from those of Miranda's. She had started to protest but a flash of a badge, white and blue embroidered onto a navy blue t-shirt halted her plea.

The dark-haired man who had helped her with Miranda had pulled her up from the floor. Andy had felt a moment blip of triumph as she remembered his name was Markus. His hand had remained upon her shoulder but Andy hadn't really felt it, her attention was solely focused upon the two men working upon Miranda.

Movement in front had brought Andy's mind back into clear focus. One of the paramedics stood and shifted his position so that he was stood over Miranda's head. Andy couldn't help the gasp that had escaped her lips. She had been aware of them talking to themselves; words both strange and familiar tumbled from their lips, but her attention had been focused solely upon Miranda. One of them moved and then they had started to lift Miranda upon to the gurney they had brought with them. It wasn't long before between the two of them they had Miranda immobilised.

She had looked so small strapped down to the yellow and black collapsible stretcher.

The gurney had just started to move when blue eyes had fluttered open. Andy had felt an indescribable feeling of relief flood her heart as she watched Miranda blink slowly. Miranda's hand lifted to her face and she tried to pull the oxygen mask from her face.

Automatically Andy had taken a step forward; she surged into the small distance between them when Miranda croaked out her name.

Andy had found herself answering as the paramedics had stopped the gurney to check on Miranda's condition.

Miranda's eyes shined, then she had stuttered as she had asked her, would she come with her, and followed the request with a please.

Andy had felt her eyes widen, Miranda never said please. Andy knew she must be scared, who wouldn't be scared if they had just collapsed in the middle of their work place. Andy had then tried to reply, but had found her throat closed. She had swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat.

Miranda had started to ask her again but didn't get the change to finish her sentence as one of the Paramedic softly told her to keep the oxygen mask in place.

Andy had quickly nodded her head, forced out that she would be right behind her.

Andy had turned and had quickly set about retrieving her belongings, as well as Miranda's. She had glanced left and saw look of shock coupled with envy upon the face of Emily. She had shaken her head, didn't have time to think about that.

The trip out of the Runway Offices and to the New York-Presbyterian Hospital Emergency Room had been a blur. All Andy remembered was the way that Miranda had clung to her hand as she whispered about her children.

Andy had quickly set about reassuring her, murmuring that they were fine, that she would take care of them, that she would take care of everything, and pleading with the headstrong woman not to worry.

When they had arrived at the hospital, the last thing Miranda had said before she was whisked away from her at high speed was, 'don't leave me'.

"Andrea Sachs?"

Andy snapped out of her thought and quickly jumped to her feet at the sound of her name.

In the middle of the emergency room waiting area, a woman stood in green scrubs, orange Crocs, and a white surgical cap. She held a clip board clutched in her left hand while she scanned the crowed waiting area.

"Here, I'm Andy Sachs. I'm Ms Priestly's personal assistant." Andy quickly explained as she drew level with the shorter woman

Closer, Andy could see the doctor in more detail. A large slightly crooked nose dominated the doctor's face, wisps' of dirty blonde hair were trying to escape from under the doctor's surgical cap, and she could see large dark circles dominated the underneath of the doctor's hazel coloured eyes.

"You are here with..." The doctor looked down at her clipboard and scanned the information present, "Mrs Priestly?"

"Yes, its Ms Priestly."

"I'm Dr Reyes; I treated Ms Priestly when she was brought in. I notice here that you haven't put any next of kin for Ms Priestly." The doctor looked up enquiringly and Andy shook her head in response.

"She...she is separated from her husband. She wouldn't want me to call him. She has two daughters, but they are only twelve."

"I see, any other family?" The doctor replied distractedly.

Andy shook her head once more; she didn't have a clue if Miranda had any other family apart from Caroline and Cassidy.

"I don't know. Is she ok?" Andy asked desperate for some form of reassurance, though doubting that the small doctor would provide it.

The doctor suddenly sighed and looked up from her clipboard. She reached up and tucked an errant lock of blonde behind her ear before she answered, "Ms Priestly experienced a myocardial infarction."

"A what?" Andy asked.

"A heart attack Miss Sachs." Dr Reyes explained.

"Oh my God." Andy had suspected that it was a heart attack, but hearing it made the situation suddenly all the more real.

The doctor dipped her head as she turned her wrist to glance at her gold watch. "We have managed to stabilise her."

"Will she be ok?" Andy pressed a hand to her throat and waited for the doctor's reply. She didn't want to think about what would happen if Miranda died.

Suddenly she thought of the two little girls who adored their mother. Andy pushed the image aside as Dr Reyes shook her head.

"I can't answer that at this time Miss Sachs, it all depends upon the severity of the damage Ms Priestly's heart has suffered."

"Can I see her?"

The doctor sighed, "Usually the only ones permitted to see a patient under these circumstances are a spouse or immediate family members, however..."

"Please, I just need to see that she is ok." Andy interrupted.

"I can let you see Ms Priestly for a short period of time."

"Thank you."

Dr Reyes nodded and then indicated that Andy should follow her. They made the trip in silence, apart from the squeak of Dr Reyes' orange Crocs.

Dr Reyes opened a door to her right and Andy followed her into the room. The sight that greeted her was shocking. Miranda was lying in the middle of a hospital bed, surrounded by several different machines, a heart monitor beeped steadily and Andy could see an IV on a pole. Tubes were running from the machines and the IV into Miranda, proving her body with everything it needed. An oxygen mask obscured half her face and her chest was moving slowly but steadily.

A small sharp beep suddenly broke the silence and Andy briefly glanced at Dr Reyes as she removed her beeper from her hip.

"I have to go," Dr Reyes said as she hooked her clipboard under her arm.

Suddenly Miranda's last words to her came rushing back, "Can I stay?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment, she looked as if she was going to argue, but her beeper went off again. She sighed and then nodded her head, "I'll inform the supervising nurse that you are in here."

Alone, Andy couldn't help the tears that gathered in her eyes unexpectedly, Miranda was the most powerful and intimidating woman she had ever met, but at that moment she just looked weak and small. Andy once again wondered why she cared. When no answer came she simply sighed and moved towards the chair situated at the back of the room.

As Andy slumped into the chair, just as she didn't know why she cared so much about her boss, she didn't know why she had asked her not to leave her. She did however know that as always she would do what Miranda had asked, she would stay with her. She would not leave her alone, not now, not ever.

~fin~


	2. A Dark Moment  Miranda

Title: A Dark Moment - Miranda

Author: Widdy  
>Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil Wears Prada, or Miranda or Andy, unfortunately someone else does so I'm just borrowing them I will return them after I'm done.<br>Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes feel free to feed me.

Pairing: Andrea/Miranda

Summary: A dark moment in Miranda's life.

A/N: This story includes some angst, and may be upsetting to some readers. If this is you then please do not read, thank you.

Miranda felt like her body had been hit head on by a juggernaut. In retrospect Miranda knew she should have heeded the warning signs. They had all been there, unusual fatigue, sleep disturbances, shortness of breath, indigestion, anxiety. Every little sign that told her to go and see her physician has been there.

The real irony in the situation was she had intended to tell Andrea to contact her physician that very morning. While she had been standing over her desk, informing Andrea that her current work was subpar, the very next words she had been about to utter, were instructions to contact her doctor, Conrad Forster. However that had also been the very same moment that she had realised that she had left it too late. That was the moment that everything started to crumble.

She hadn't been feeling too well all morning. In fact if she was honest with herself Miranda knew she hadn't felt well for several weeks. Tightness in her chest, numbness in her left arm from time to time. She had been in a meeting with Irv and the board last week when she had been overwhelmed by the sensation of breathlessness. Her heart had felt like it had slowed and her lungs had felt like they had packed their bags and jumped ship.

That morning however was worse than the others. She had been awoken in the early hours of the morning on three separate occasions in cold sweats and feeling sick to her stomach. When she had woken the last time she had simply decided to give up on trying to sleep. Instead she had decided to shower, dress and check the Book one more time.

Her plans hadn't quite worked the way she had wanted it to. When she had stepped into the shower, Miranda had lost herself in the stream of the hot water. What she had planned to be a simple ten minute showed had turned into a forty-five minute marathon. The thing that had worried her the most was that fact she had felt like she had just stepped under the stream before she was interrupted. Miranda suspected she would have still been in the shower now, if Caroline's and Cassidy's argument hadn't interrupted her.

Even then she hadn't really been focused; Miranda just thought she was ill. She had thought it was a bug, some twenty-four hour infection. While she didn't feel great Miranda knew that she didn't have time to feel ill. She had responsibilities. She had her girls, they needed her. Illness or no illness she had been determined to take them to school. Just as she had been determined to go to work, she knew she couldn't afford to not be there, Miranda knew that her work would not wait for her.

So she had put on her normal face of distain, and through the girls bickering, she had somehow managed to get dressed, and arrive at Runway, while coping with her own condition.

She had lasted a little under two hours. It had taken two hours for her heart to decide it had had enough. Miranda could remember the moment perfectly. She could recall the scent of roses, germinis and carnations; she could still see Andrea, her head bobbing and her eyes wide as she had listened intently to her voice. She could still see the pulse in her neck jump as she had said something partially scathing. She could see her large chocolate brown eyes widen as they flooded with confusion, and then fear.

She could remember tightness in her chest. It had felt like somebody had reached inside her and had suddenly grasped and violently squeezed her heart, her lungs and everything else in her chest as hard as they possibly could. The pressure was unbelievable. Miranda also recalled the pain; she remembered how she wondered why the pain wasn't sharper, more acute. Instead it had been dull, like a low background hum. She had also felt sick, like she wanted to vomit.

Her fear had reached fever pitch when her vision had started to blur, and her breath had shortened. Miranda remembered how she had looked towards the brunette before her; she had heard her name spoken with alarm, then the sensation of falling had come.

Everything had happened as if in slow motion. As Andrea's desk had started to come into clear focus, Miranda remembered feeling panic set in, and then the continuous mantra that she had to keep fighting. Fighting for herself, fighting for her children. She just had to fight, she couldn't die. Then, there was nothing but darkness.

The next thing Miranda remembered was a floating sensation and then hands. Meaty digits digging into her legs and shoulders. She had heard voices, some distant some close. Someone had been calling to her, gently, for a moment it had sounded like a woman, and then the voice had deepened. The tone of the voice darkened and became more persistent. Miranda had felt fingertips upon her eyelids and then a sharp light.

Something had then been wrapped around her neck and something hard and sharp shifting beneath the skin of her left hand. She felt restricted. She had tried to move, but her body refused, and it wasn't helped by the fact that she was restrained somehow. Something was placed over her face. She had felt like her mind was swimming though a vat of treacle, every thought was sluggish. Her weighted feeling had been accompanied by a feeling cloudiness, every struggle to move into consciousness had been hindered, it was like a fog had settled over her, but every time she took a breath of air it cleared momentarily and she had been able to think straight, for just a moment.

She had known that she had to wake up; she couldn't stay in the darkness. She knew if she stayed, she would never leave. That was a scenario that was unacceptable. So she had fought, she had fought the dark, she had fought the haze. She had struggled through the syrup like feeling that encompassed her.

Somehow she had managed to force her eyelids to move. As they had fluttered open tiny pin pricks of light had pierced her corneas, stabbing at her relentlessly. As her vision started to clear Miranda became aware of the fact that she was moving. She had felt disorientated as a shape appeared in her vision. She had heard her name called out again, but she hadn't answered. Instead had allowed fear to consume her, as she had awoken to the severity of her condition, the realisation of what was happening to her started to close in. She had felt the fear she had felt when she had collapsed start to squeeze her at her chest, so she called out for the one person she could always really on. The one person who had never failed her, the one person in the world who had always met and exceeded her expectations. Andrea.

As always Andrea had appeared, asking her what she could do for her, she had done something that was so out of character. She had felt tears singing her eyes as she had asked her assistant to accompany her, what was even more unbelievable was the fact that her fear had overridden her usual safeguards and she had accompanied her plea with a please. She hadn't wanted to order Andrea, at that moment she had wanted Andrea to accompany her, and she had wanted her to come with her because she cared, not because she had been told to do so.

He assistant didn't reply immediately and Miranda knew she had shocked her with the plea. It was well know that Miranda Priestly did not do certain things, she did not share elevators, she did not wait for anything, and she certainly did not say please to her subordinates.

She had started to ask again when Andrea interrupted her and informed her that she would be right behind her. Then the gurney had moved again, the irony of the fact that she had to share an elevator with not one but three other people was not lost on her.

The trip to hospital had not been a pleasant one. Miranda would have given anything to have been in the back of her Mercedes Benz. The gurney had been secured but even so she felt every bump and every dip that was present in the road. It had only been the presence of Andrea that had kept her mind from what was happening. Miranda recalled how she had latched onto Andrea's hand, as she had found herself pouring her heart out to her assistant. She had found herself telling Andrea of her worry for her daughters, her worry about what would become of them if anything happened to her. She hadn't wanted to die; she hadn't wanted to leave them. In return Andrea had been kind and gentle, offering her reassurances, insisting that she would be fine, that she would soon return home to her daughters.

Soon enough they had arrived at the hospital and Miranda could remember how her panic had risen as she had been separated from Andrea. She could hear Andrea's voice and the worry it had contained as she had argued with a nurse that she should accompany her, only to have the woman inform her that she couldn't. She recalled that she had begged Andrea not to leave her before she had been rushed away.

As she had tried to look back for Andrea a woman had then appeared over her, her head partial obscured by a surgical cap. Miranda could still hear the doctor's voice as clear as if she was with her now; she could still hear her words as she asked her could she hear her. She could still feel the gurney she had been strapped to slow momentary as they rounded some hurdle and then speed up again.

She could still feel the doctor's fingertips as she had lifted her eyelids and checked the response of her pupils, she could hear her voice again as she explained that she had experienced a myocardial infarction, and how it was serious enough that they must operate immediately. Miranda recalled how she had appreciated the doctor's bluntness and the tone she used while explaining the procedure she had to undergo. If there was one thing she couldn't stand was mollycoddling, and how some of the medical profession at sight of some silver hair insisted upon talking to their patients like they were missing the majority of their brain cells.

She was led into a room and hands had lifted her from one gurney to another. New hands had appeared and the buttons upon her blouse had been opened and Miranda had watched as the doctor from earlier had appeared once more. After a quick examination the next words from the doctor's mouth had been 'prep for surgery'.

A voice had asked her if she could stand to remove her clothing. Miranda had found herself nodding as two nurses appeared to help her do just that. Miranda didn't recall much after that. She recalled the dark eyes of the anaesthesiologist and his deep melodic voice as he told her what he was doing. After that there was nothing, just a deep heavy feeling puling at her consciousness.

Miranda groaned as she took stock of her injuries. She presumed she had survived the surgery because surely she wouldn't feel pain if she hadn't. Pain wasn't exactly accurate, she felt some pain, but mainly she felt bruised. It was like an elephant had walked across her chest.

Miranda forced her eyes open and was thankful that when her sensitive vision wasn't assaulted by a bright light. Instead the room in which she lay was dimly lit. Miranda blinked slowly as she allowed her eyes to scan the room in which she lay. Her view was almost immediately obscured by an assortment of bouquets. Flowers of almost every colour imaginable were present. Miranda sneered as she imagined that news of her collapse had spread like wildfire, with many no doubt wising that she would not recover. Well that hadn't happened, and she would be back at Runway before they knew it.

Miranda continued her exploration, Miranda allowed a small smile to curl her lips as she scrutinised the blooms. They had been expertly chosen, only her favourites. It was as if the bouquets had been screened, and only the best had been accepted. Miranda knew that only one of her assistants could have done that. With that thought Miranda found her eyes landing upon that very assistant. Andrea.

She was sleeping curled up in a chair at the back of the room. Her was clothing wrinkled and her hair which had been free the last time she had seen her had been pulled back in a lose pony tail. Her sleep looked anything but peaceful, her head was moving from side to side and she was murmuring and Miranda was about to call out when the door to the room opened and Miranda found her attention shifting away from the brunette asleep in the chair at the back of the room.

A dark shape stepped through the door, Mirada blinked slowly as the shape took on the form of a woman and moved softly around the room. It was a nurse; she stepped at the foot of the bed. Miranda watched as the shape glanced at Andrea's sleeping form, and then it removed something from the bottom of the bed.

Miranda blinked slowly. When her eyes opened Miranda saw a round face swim into view. A small heavy set woman with red hair was standing next to her bed with a clip board under one arm. Two green eyes were staring intently at her face as they visually checked her condition.

"You're awake." The woman said as reached for something next to her.

Miranda tried to speak but found her mouth stuck together. It was like it had been filled with cotton balls.

The redheaded woman smiled in understanding and started to lift her arm.

"Water?" the nurse asked with raised eyebrows.

Miranda nodded as the nurse stepped forward and offered her a straw. Miranda strained her mouth towards the straw and sighed as the piece of plastic rested between her parched lips.

"There you go." The nurse said, "Nice a slowly now, small sips." She added when Miranda tried to take too much of the clear liquid.

The nurse pulled the cup away and Miranda frowned but thanked the nurse for the small drink.

"You are welcome." The nurse smiled and placed the cup upon a small movable table next to the bed. She removed the clipboard from under her arm and then started to check all the machines that surrounded her bed. Silence filled the room once more as the nurse started to make notes upon the clipboard.

"How long...?" Miranda asked when the nurse didn't speak again.

"How long have you been here?" the nurse asked as hooked the clipboard under arm again and picked up the water for Miranda once more.

"Yes." Miranda sighed and took another sip of the water the nurse held out for her.

"You were brought in just after ten am, and it's now four am. So that is about eighteen hours."

"God." Miranda sighed. She could hardly believe that eighteen hours had passed. It felt like everything had happened in minutes not hours. Where were her girls? They would have finished school by now, were they here somewhere, or were they home.

"I think he might have been looking out for you today."

"My girls?" Miranda asked.

"Your daughters?" the nurse placed the cup of water upon the table once more.

"Yes." Miranda nodded.

The nurse ran a hand through her hair and looked thoughtful, "they were here when I started my shift. I think your friend asked their childminder to take them home."

"Were they...?" Miranda started but couldn't finish as her throat tightened, she knew they must have been scared.

"They were fine. They were a little upset, but that's understandable." The nurse answered quickly her tone soft.

"Am I going to recover?" Miranda enquired.

The nurse sighed and twisted her lips.

"That's a question you will have to ask a doctor. You had a heart attack Ms Priestly, they had to perform surgery. I'll go and find a doctor for you, but while I gone you should try and rest." The redhead said firmly.

Miranda shook her head and then looked towards the back of the room, "How long has she been here?"

The nurse glanced over her shoulder towards the sleeping brunette before answering, "Since you came in."

"For eighteen hours?" Miranda asked shocked.

The nurse gave her a small smile and then hung the clipboard back upon the bottom of the bed and told her to press the call button if she needed anything.

"Yes, she wouldn't leave." The nursed responded with a nod and then exited the room.

Her words lingered within the air. Miranda closed her mouth and stared at Andrea's sleeping form. She had come with her to the hospital, she had waited while she had surgery, and she had sat with her in this room for the past eighteen hours. She had been terrified that she was going to die, and she had asked Andrea to stay with her, she had almost begged her to not leave her and the younger woman had done just that. She wasn't even nice to the younger woman, in fact she was downright rude to her most of the time, but for some unfathomable reason Andrea had not left her. Andrea had done something few had done; she had stayed with her when she needed her.

~fin~


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